


Exhausted

by rebellioncas



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Anxiety, Panic Attack, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-09-06 14:24:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8756032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebellioncas/pseuds/rebellioncas
Summary: He’d suffered from them ever since he could remember. As a child, the prospect of losing all authority of his own body had been even more petrifying. But back then, he hadn’t been alone.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Lyon is a very proud character, and I feel like it'd take a lot for him to see something like this as anything but a flaw. Mental illness isn't a flaw, of course. I've just written it how I imagine Lyon seeing it.

_~~~ He’d suffered from them ever since he could remember. As a child, the prospect of losing all authority of his own body had been even more petrifying. But back then, he hadn’t been alone._

_He’d had Ur to help him come back to himself. She’d sit through it with him. Helping him to breathe, and tracing soothing patterns on his skin. It gave him something to focus on. Acting like a distraction that had the power to placate a looming storm._

_She’d help him fall asleep afterwards. Singing softly, whilst brushing his hair back from his face. Lyon hadn’t understood his constant underlying distress back then. He’d had to learn fast after he’d lost Ur._

_He’d never told anyone else about it. Lyon didn’t like to think about it, let alone talk about it. Of course, Gray knew. But he rarely ever asked, and Lyon did his best to brush it off when he did._

_It was all he could do to hope that he never had an attack in front of his guild mates. ~~~_

 

Lyon was exhausted.

He always was after the adrenaline seeped out of his bones. The rush depleted almost as fast as it washed over him in the first place. Taking the nausea along with it.

It left him numb. Cold, aching and tired. Exhausted.

Whatever it was that had set him off in the first place, was buried deep in the back of his mind. It was safe there. Locked away where he didn’t have to think about it, nor did he have to deal with it. It was easier that way.

For a while he just sat. Blinking slowly, like he was pulling himself out of a daze. The physical aspects of it were gone now. No more trembling limbs, laboured breaths, or choked sobs.

He was perfectly still. Relaxed, and breathing evenly. The tear stains on his face were the only evidence that anything had ever happened.

It was Lyon’s mind that took longer to piece itself back together. With no one else there to convince him that he really was okay, it was difficult to calm the thoughts buzzing around in his head.

Lyon closed his eyes, and slowly began to do a mental check. Something that helped him to ease up on the tension in his muscles. Something that helped Lyon convince himself he was fine. That he was in control.

He tested each part of his body. Closing his eyes, and flexing his toes slowly.

Feet. Okay.

Knees. Okay.

Fingers. Okay.

Hands. Okay.

Arms. Okay.

Every limb, every muscle, every part of his body that moved. Only after he was sure, did Lyon begin to re-associate himself with his surroundings.

Losing his awareness terrified him. It always had done. The fact that he could fall into that downward spiral in seconds. Yet, it could take him hours to climb back out. Sometimes, only to find that chunks of his memory were missing.

For example, Lyon didn’t remember how he ended up on the floor by his couch. But as he looked around, that was exactly where he was.

Lyon didn’t remember much before the attack, though.

He remembered a small headache. Serving as a warning sign, that he’d promptly ignored. Lyon wasn’t someone who liked to admit to his weaknesses. Not even to himself. So he’d let the headache grow, and told himself that he could ignore it.

He couldn’t.

What had been just a dull ache, grew slowly into a loud throbbing. Then paranoia had started to kick in, and the rest simply felt like being pulled under by tidal wave of fear. It was overwhelming. Suffocating.

Lyon would convince himself that he couldn’t breathe. That if he did, he would drown. He would fight against his own lungs, whilst walls that weren’t there drew closer and closer. Trapping him. Confining him in a space where time slowed down and tortured him.

All he could ever do was wait it out.

There was no one to tell him to breathe. No one to prise the invisible walls away from him, and stop him tugging at his own hair to the point that it hurt.

Lyon had to face it by himself. There was nothing else that he could do. Besides, he was used to it by now.

He had to be.

Sitting still was beginning to make him restless. He was thinking too much. He needed to move. He eased himself to his feet, and headed towards his balcony. He’d requested an apartment with one for this very reason.

It was dark out.

The stone floor was rough under Lyon’s bare feet. It distracted him. Almost grounded him. The cold brushed over his skin, but Lyon didn’t mind all that much. What would send shivers through others, was a pleasant chill to him.

It did, however, make his eyes burn. They felt raw. Lyon touched his fingers to his cheeks, discovering the crusted remnants of tears. A sense of self-loathing settled in the pit of his stomach.

Lyon hated crying.

Shaking his head, he angrily rubbed away the evidence. Then Lyon sat himself down on a chair, pulled out a cigarette and lighter from his pocket, placed the former between his lips and lit it with a small spark.

The smoke soothed him. It was harsh. Bitter. It felt real. Which was what he needed.

Each inhale allowed him to cover up the numbing sensation. It was rooted deep in his heart, and spread out to each and every nerve ending. Smoking didn’t get rid of it. It just made it easier to ignore. Lyon decided he could deal with that.

Each exhale seemed to take the final remnants of his attack away. Or maybe that was just the tiredness starting to take a hold.

Lyon needed to sleep. He didn’t want to.

He stared up at the stars for a short while. Wondering how many of them he would have to wish upon for his wish to come true.

I wish…

I wish I didn’t have this weakness. I wish I wasn’t so frail.

I wish… I wasn’t so tired. I’m so tired.

His cigarette burnt out. As did his will to stay awake.

Lyon didn’t want to give into his body. He was weary of constantly having to go to sleep sad.

Fatigue won him over. It always did.

Lyon dropped his cigarette butt into an ashtray that he kept outside. Then he slipped quietly back into his apartment.

He didn’t bother getting changed. Nor did he bother to climb between the sheets. Instead, Lyon fell heavily onto his bed. He rested his head against one pillow, and wrapped his arms around another. Holding it close to his chest for comfort.

It took minutes for him to succumb to sleep. Drowsiness tugging him under until his eyes slipped shut and his breathing stilled.

It was no doubt that he would feel awful when he woke. Lyon always did feel awful in the aftermath. He could sleep for a full twelve hours, and still be drained when he woke up. It took him a while to recover. But for now, at least. He could escape into a dreamless bliss.

**Author's Note:**

> Did I ever mention that Lyon is my fav FT character? Along with Happy ofc.
> 
> Hope there's not too many mistakes and stuff. Also hope you enjoyed it!!


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